


Pulling the Puzzle Apart

by inaflash



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:43:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5259584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inaflash/pseuds/inaflash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After five years of hell, believed to be dead, Oliver Queen has returned to Starling City with only one goal: to fulfill his promise to his father and save his city. However he never expected to have to deal with someone who was already saving it.</p><p>Or: Arrow if the Flash had been a hero in Starling City first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saving Starling City

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I began writing this for Olivarry Week Day 1: Barry works for the SCPD, but it wound up becoming a much bigger project than I anticipated. The title is taken from The Scientist by Coldplay.

Oliver Queen was reluctant to admit it, but he was concerned. In all of his careful planning for what would happen when he returned home, he had never anticipated this. Someone called the Streak was already acting as a vigilante in Oliver’s city. It left him deeply troubled. This did not fit into Oliver’s carefully laid schemes. Of course Oliver knew that even the best laid plans often went awry, but this was beyond a kink or a small bump in the operation, this was a different beast altogether.

It was only his first day back in Starling City, and already his sister had thrown a wrench in his plans without even knowing it.

_Thea and her friend came thundering down the hallway, and though the sight made Oliver’s heart leap with fond joy, he was already constructing an excuse in his mind, recognizing the eager excitement in Thea’s eyes. However all need for excuses flew right by him with Thea._

_Curious, Oliver turned and called out to her, the trademark “Oliver Queen grin” firmly in place on his lips._

_“Hey Speedy, where are you off to?”_

_Both Thea and the girl she was with paused, and Oliver watched the conflicted emotions fly across his younger sister’s face, clearly struggling to find an excuse that would suffice for the brother she hadn’t seen in years._

_However her friend answered for the both of them, the excitement evident in her bright eyes and flushed cheeks._

_“We’re going Streak spotting, so we really have to go!”_

_“Maddison!” Thea hissed in clear irritation, glancing at Oliver, who frowned._

_“What is ‘streak spotting’?” He asked warily, uncertain whether he really wanted to know the answer, especially since he highly doubted anything he said or did - short of tying Thea up - would keep her from doing whatever it was she wanted to do. “Please tell me it has nothing to do with streaking.”_

_“No!” Thea cried, and took a deep breath. “The Streak is this...well no one really knows what it is. Some people think it’s a person, but no one is really sure. It’s just this...red streak that’s been saving people around Starling City for a little over a year now.”_

_Oliver’s eyebrows were practically climbing into his hairline by now, and Thea flushed, clearly thinking her castaway brother thought she was the crazy one in the family. “It’s real! A bunch of us go onto some roofs in the city and we’ve seen it a few times.” Her friend began tugging on her arm, trying to drag her to the door, while Oliver’s thoughts were racing._

_“Just...be safe,” he called distantly to the girls’ retreating backs, though the warning was given out of rote more than anything. He was still too busy trying to parse through Thea’s explanation. Unlike Thea, who seemed to be skeptical of the Streak as a person, Oliver had little doubt that was exactly what the Streak was. He also knew what it meant._

_Starling City already had a vigilante._

Hours later, Oliver still wasn’t any closer to sorting through the mystery that was this red streak. He hadn’t been able to sneak off to do any research, so instead he had elected to casually question his mother, Walter, and Tommy about the vigilante over dinner. Each of them had their own opinions on the matter, all of them interesting, but none of them giving Oliver any sort of headway.

Walter didn’t believe in the Streak at all; according to him, the first person ever reporting to be saved by a red blur of light had been a drunken raving lunatic. Oliver’s stepfather theorized that over the past year people began clinging onto the Streak as an ideal, not an actuality. Walter seemed to think the Streak was becoming synonymous for the unexplainable, not a real person or thing that actually saved people.

Moira seemed completely uninterested and dismissive of the Streak altogether. While she believed in the existence of a Streak, unlike her husband, she thought it was pointless endeavor, a single man deciding to think himself some sort of hero and fight petty crime as if he made any sort of difference.

Though Tommy treated the matter as if it was a joke, he seemed to have more opinions on the Streak than anyone else at the table. He disguised his well thought out analysis of the Streak and his potential motives with crude humor about the choice of name and the act of the red blur “streaking” through Starling City to fight crime. Oliver resolved to press Tommy for more details and questions later.

He didn’t even know who - or what - the Streak was. Whatever it was, it was fast, superhumanly so. It seemed almost beyond the realm of possibility, but Oliver had seen many impossible things over the past five years. Oliver was willing to accept that whoever or whatever the Streak was had some sort of supernatural speed, but how? Was it the Mirakuru, or some version of it?

The mere thought of that cursed serum sent a shiver running down Oliver’s spine. The idea of anyone running around with that in their veins was chilling; whether or not the Streak was doing any good in the city was irrelevant. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.

Now Oliver had another mystery on his hands, one that could undermine everything, depending on the answers he uncovered. Should Oliver approach the Streak? Who should he approach him as? Should he try to work with the Streak?

Almost immediately he rejected that idea. There were too many unknown variables, too many things that could go wrong. No, Oliver would be careful, he would stick to the plan. He couldn’t afford to deviate from it, there was far too much at stake.

He was suspicious of the Streak and he knew he wasn’t the only one. Maybe another city would open the Streak with open arms, but Starling City was cut from a different cloth. It wasn’t Central City, a smaller, younger city with less of a sharp contrast between the socioeconomic classes. Nor was it Gotham, a city in which the poisonous underbelly had risen and corrupted the city so thoroughly, the citizens - driven by fear - looked to the Batman rather than the public servants that swore to protect them within the confines of the law.

Starling City would not be the sort of city to warmly welcome someone that wanted to play hero. That was what made Oliver different; he was what Starling City needed. It was not simply his own arrogance speaking, but certainty. He would save the city, but he was not going to save it by acting like a hero. That had never been Oliver’s intention. He would fulfill his promise to his father to save the city, but Oliver had never promised to be a hero.

The things he would have to do for the sake of saving Starling would be the very actions a hero tried to stop. If the Streak considered himself a hero, the two would be on opposite sides. Though Oliver was confident in his abilities he was weary of making an enemy that had a similar goal, especially one he knew precious little about.

Growling in frustration, Oliver finally stopped pacing the length of his bedroom and yanked back his desk chair, sitting down and booting up the computer that had remained untouched for five years. Evidently Internet Explorer hadn’t improved in Oliver’s time away either. Finally the search page loaded, and Oliver’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, almost apprehensively, before he typed in “Starling City Streak”.

Almost immediately his screen was full of links leading to supposed Streak sightings, conspiracy theories, and articles about the strange phenomenon that had made itself known in Starling City. Groaning, Oliver rubbed at his eyes. It appeared he was going to have a long night ahead of him, if he truly expected to be able to figure out who the Streak was, or at least more information than he had gleaned out of the people he had already talked to.

Clicking on the blog dedicated to strange happenstances run by some conspiracy theorist in Central City, Oliver cracked his knuckles and focused on the bright screen, determined to learn all he could about the red blur that had been saving Starling City.

 

* * *

 

"Hey Barry, have you heard the news?”

Barry Allen looked up from his microscope and grinned as Detective Eddie Thawne strode through the doors to the lab, waving around what looked like a newspaper. Their friendship befuddled most of the office, but both of them had been new to the Starling City Police Department - Eddie coming from Keystone, Barry arriving from Central City - and had quickly bonded, adapting the typical “new kid pack mentality” as Barry coined it. Adding to that Eddie’s easy-going nature and unwavering moral compass with Barry’s positivity and eagerness, their friendship went far beyond being in a similar social position. And since moving to Starling City, Eddie had become privy to quite a few of Barry’s secrets, which had only served to strengthen their friendship. At this point Barry considered Eddie one of his two best friends, which meant he easily picked up on the teasing tone in the detective’s voice.

“Did Hall finally stop calling you Detective Pretty Boy?” Barry asked jokingly. Eddie halted, frowning in confusion.

“Does she really call me that?” Barry’s eyes widened and he immediately began stumbling over his words, trying desperately to recover. He honestly thought Eddie knew Hall had dubbed him that; after all practically the entire precinct referred to Eddie by that particular nickname.

“At least it’s better than lab rat.” Barry offered, and Eddie smiled at him, rolling his eyes.

“Well no that’s not what I was talking about.” Eddie reached across Barry and grabbed a remote, pointing it at the television in the lab.

“ - and billionaire Oliver Queen is alive,” a reporter was saying on the television screen and Barry dropped the file he had been holding, sending papers scattering across the floor. Eddie eyed him curiously but Barry ignored him, simply snatching the remote from his friend’s hand and turning the volume up.

“The Starling City resident was found by fishermen in the North China sea five days ago, five years after he was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed The Queen's Gambit. Queen was a regular tabloid presence and a fixture at the Starling City club scene. Shortly before his disappearance, he was acquitted of assault charges stemming from a highly publicized drunken altercation with paparazzi. Queen is the son of Starling City billionaire Robert Queen, who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased.”

“Wow.” Barry managed to choke out as the news station transitioned to the next segment. “Who would have thought huh?” He laughed weakly. “Talk about the impossible.”

Eddie gave Barry a strange look. “Are you okay Bear? Did you know Queen or something?”

And wouldn’t that have just been so easy? If Barry had known Oliver Queen he would have had a reason for acting like this, or at least a semi-rational one. But Barry had never met the man in his life - until college he hadn’t even left Central City, and just about everyone knew the billionaire heir had flunked out of each one he attended.

“Um no. I’ve never met the guy in my life but uh,” Barry let out an embarrassed combination of a laugh and a cough, “I sort of figured out I was bisexual because of him.” Barry wasn’t the type to read the tabloids ordinarily, but he had grown up with a foster sister that had quite the crush on Oliver Queen, and therefore bought just about every magazine with the slightest mention of the playboy. Barry had taken more than a few glances at said magazines, and had maybe even stolen the poster from Tiger Beat (though Iris could never prove it).

“Really? Oliver Queen?” Eddie didn’t sound judgmental in the least, simply curious and teasing. He leaned across Barry’s desk, tilting his head and glancing at the newspaper in his hands. Barry could see the title and picture splashed across the front page. Oliver Queen, of course. “I mean I can see it, I’m just surprised. I mean when I think of a celebrity crush I tend to think of an actual celebrity.”

Barry rolled his eyes, but secretly he was relieved at how easily Eddie had slipped into a joking tone. Though the detective had already known about Barry’s bisexuality, too many bad experiences had taught Barry to be careful about who he trusted. However Eddie had handled far bigger secrets than what kind of people were involved in Barry’s nonexistent love life.

“I did grow up with a girl. Oliver is the only name we share on our cheat list actually.” He had even been the source of a fight between Barry and Iris, when the latter had figured out that Barry had a celebrity crush on the older billionaire too. Of course the entire thing had been ridiculous since they were fourteen at the time, Oliver Queen was six hundred miles and several years apart from them, and Iris had just discovered that Barry liked boys too. Not to mention the fact that while Oliver Queen was a celebrity crush, Iris West was much more real and much closer to Barry.

“Yeah well who knows? Maybe now you’ll have a shot!” Even though Barry knew Eddie was just poking fun at him, the grin on his face was wide and hopeful. Barry knew Eddie worried about him, worried about his personal life and how he was handling things. It was sweet, honestly, but sometimes it could be a little much.

“Sure Eddie,” Barry said, rolling his eyes with a laugh. “Because the only thing keeping us apart was the fact that I thought he was dead.”

Eddie laughed along with him and shook his head. Barry saw him glancing around, and his stomach tightened in apprehension as Eddie leaned in closer and opened his mouth. While Barry wasn’t positive what Eddie was going to say, he knew what it would be about at the very least. It always set him on edge, discussing that at work, and Barry found himself looking around nervously.

Suddenly the sound of Lady Gaga was filling the lab and Barry dove for his cell phone, grateful that the moment had been broken. Ignoring Eddie’s huff of laughter at his choice in ringtones Barry grimaced at the caller I.D. an answered.

“It’s Allen.”

Almost immediately Detective Lance’s gruff voice was snapping at him through the phone and Barry winced. With a flick of his wrist he was able to check his watch and gauge just how late to the crime scene he was.

“I’ll be right there sir.” Barry was already grabbing his coat and case. Spinning in a circle his eyes darted around the lab, looking for his badge. Thankfully Eddie had already spotted it and held it out for Barry with a look of fond amusement.

“Sorry Eddie but I’ve got to go. I’m late for meeting Lance and Hilton at a scene.”

Of all the detectives to be late for, it had to be one of the grumpiest in the whole precinct.

“Say hello to Oliver Queen for me if you get a chance!” Eddie’s teasing voice followed Barry as he made his way out of the lab. He just laughed and shook his head at his friend. Honestly, he was more likely to get struck by lightning than he was to speak to the not dead billionaire today.

 

* * *

 

If looks could kill, Oliver would be dead three times over. He couldn’t blame Lance - he was the reason the man’s family fell apart after all. If he could go back in time and make sure Sara never climbed on the Queen’s Gambit he would. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only try to atone for it in the future.

However Quentin Lance was the least likely person to ever offer him any sort of atonement.

Oliver had known he would be dealing with the police sooner or later. He hadn’t anticipated it would be this particular member of the force, let alone so soon, but he knew he had to play the hand he had been dealt.

The wildcard kid was unexpected however.

Oliver still wasn’t sure who this kid was, and it didn’t look like Lance was going to stop glaring at him long enough to explain the presence of the kid fidgeting beside him on the couch. Thankfully his partner seemed to have picked up on Oliver’s curious glances.

“Mr. Queen, this is one of the CSI assistants, Barry Allen.” He made a sweeping gesture towards the young man who looked like he should still be fighting acne and figuring how to sneak booze into his dorm room. Barry started and suddenly grinned at Oliver, a flush rising on his neck. Oliver was momentarily taken aback at just how bright the smile actually was. He had been on the receiving end of a fair share of smiles since his return from the “dead”, but none had seemed quite as warm as the beam the kid seemed to be giving him.

Puzzling, considering that Oliver’s own family members were included in those that had sent bright smiles their way.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Queen. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Oliver let out a surprised bark of laughter, both at the blunt honesty of the statement, and at the mortified expression the kid wore when he realized just what he had said. Detective Hilton just looked exasperated, but Lance shifted his fierce glare from Oliver to scowl at the young man in irritation.

“This is our CSI assistant, Bart Allen.”

The young man in question coughed, color rising to his cheeks. “Um, it’s Barry actually. Barry Allen.”

Oliver’s eyebrow quirked upward. “I wasn’t aware that CSI were typically called upon for cases like this. There’s not exactly a lot of evidence to be examined.” Though Oliver had detected no close relationship between Detective Lance and Barry - the older man had gotten the assistant’s _name_ wrong - Lance practically growled defensively while Allen’s grin grew wider.

“I was on a case with Detective Lance and Detective Hilton,” Barry responded amicably. “I was just finishing up when the call came in.”

The answer was calm, yet the man’s very presence unnerved Oliver. He was another unknown variable, someone Oliver had not considered meeting yet. Barry Allen was young, ridiculously so, he had to be fresh out of college - but Oliver could tell he was smart. Barry’s eyes were sharp and attentive. Oliver could see him carefully taking in his surroundings, analyzing each detail, yet unless he was a talented enough actor to fool even Oliver, Barry wasn’t suspicious. That was simply how the young CSI saw the world, which had the potential to make him very dangerous to Oliver.

Not to mention, despite the dangers and high crime rates in Starling City, it wasn’t exactly hurting for people to join the police force, and forensic science was an increasingly lucrative career, or so Oliver had been told. For Barry to have been hired by Starling City at such a young age meant that he was probably brilliant or driven. Or both.

“Alright now we all know each other. Fantastic. Let’s get to the point of this little soiree, shall we?” Surprisingly enough Oliver almost had to hold back a laugh when he caught Barry rolling his eyes at Detective Lance. That was the second time Barry Allen had almost made Oliver laugh. The second time anyone had made Oliver genuinely want to laugh since returning from the island.

And from the shy, but slightly pleased look on Allen’s face, Oliver’s suppressed laugh hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Tommy and I were grabbed by some men, we don’t know who. We were down in the Glades, and both of us were knocked out. I started waking up before Tommy did, and they interrogated me, asking about my father and the shipwreck. Then suddenly some guy just flew in and took them out.”

It was as if somehow Oliver held a hot iron to everyone’s back. There was a sharp inhalation of breath from Moira and Walter and he could feel them exchange a glance over his head, while Lance and Hilton didn’t even bother trying to hide their nonverbal communication.

Barry however, suddenly sat up straight, his green eyes even brighter and more attentive. Oliver suddenly was overcome with the urge to squirm under the careful scrutinization, unnerved by the uncharacteristic reaction in himself.

“Was it the Streak?” Hilton asked carefully, clearly trying not give any sort of credence to the Starling City mystery, but determined to get to the bottom of the suddenly interesting case they had been presented with.

“No.” Oliver said, shaking his head. “I could definitely see this guy, and there was no red. He was wearing a hood.”

Lance snorted. “Great, that’s the last thing we need,” he muttered. “Another freak show cosplayer who decides it’s his job to go around saving people.”

Beside Oliver, Moira glared. The interview continued until his mother insisted the police leave, clearly fed up with Lance’s passive aggression towards Oliver. Hilton gave Oliver an apologetic glance as they left, which Oliver quickly dismissed with an easy grin, while Barry continued to stare at him curiously with sharp green eyes, before finally breaking into a wide smile himself, surprising Oliver with just how bright it was.

“It was good to meet you Mr. Queen.”

A smile - a real one - found its way to Oliver’s lips as well as he shook the younger man’s hand, noting just how warm he was.

“Call me Oliver.”

Barry’s smile became impossibly wider and brighter, before Lance was barking at him to move along, and he was hurrying out to the police cruiser, stumbling over his long legs. Oliver pretended he didn’t watch the other man for longer than fully appropriate, before turning back to his mother and stepfather.

Later that night, as Oliver reflected on the sensation of being carefully watched by those brilliant green eyes, he came to the conclusion that yes, Barry Allen was going to prove to be very dangerous.

In more ways than one.

 

* * *

 

“Maybe I have superpowers too.”

Barry couldn’t help but snort in amusement at both Eddie’s statement and the look of absolute shock he was wearing.

“Get struck by any lightning lately?”

Eddie let out a small huff of laughter. “Maybe I did. How else would you explain my new psychic abilities?” Eddie’s face suddenly broke into a wicked grin, a new thought clearly occurring to him, leaving him with an expression that made Barry’s stomach sink with dread. “So was he just as attractive as you always imagined? Just as swoon worthy?”

Barry shot Eddie a glare without any real heat. “I was a little more concerned with doing my job,” Barry sniffed, affecting a haughty tone. He knew Eddie would see right through it - after all, Barry was practically legendary for his ability to be distracted. He was brilliant, yes, but his sense of focus often left something to be desired.

Remembering the conversation - interrogation really - with Oliver Queen, Barry’s smile faded. “He said they were saved by a vigilante.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he leaned forward. “They were saved by the Streak? Did he recognize you?” Barry shook his head.

“Eddie it wasn’t me. Oliver said it was some guy in a hood.”

The detective looked stricken. “Wait, like the psycho that was putting arrows in Adam Hunt’s people? There’s another vigilante running around?” Barry slumped forward and nodded. He had conflicting opinions on this new development. On one hand Starling was a dangerous city. Barry knew he wasn’t the only person who wanted to help, and admittedly he was already stretched thin.

However this...hood guy, he was an unknown. Sure, Barry was an unknown to most of Starling City too, but he had people in his corner, and he tried to avoid hurting people - even criminals - whenever possible. Barry had certainly never killed anyone.

But this guy in a hood had stuck arrows through people without so much as a second thought.

Barry knew Starling was a darker city than the one he had grown up in. Barry knew that. As much as he had been teased for being naive by his own family and friends, he really wasn’t. Though Barry was a positive person with an optimistic personality, he was well aware of the dark shadows that lingered in the world. He faced them every day, both in his illegal nighttime career and his paying job. Every day Barry made his way to crime scenes and was expected to figure out how the crime occurred. Barry had minored in psychology in college, to allow himself to try and get inside a criminal’s head and figure out how one pulled off whatever crime Barry was dealing with. Every day Barry went to some of the darkest places in the city and in his own mind, all in the pursuit of good and justice. He had seen awful, traumatizing things, and in the back of his mind, the most traumatizing memory of all still lingered.

But killing wasn’t the answer. Of course Barry was frustrated by the apparent lack of progress at times, but all he could do was what he did every night. Yes, Barry knew he was fighting only symptoms, not the root of the problems in Starling, but when the root of the problem was humanity itself, fighting the symptoms was all that could be done. How could Barry destroy another human life intentionally for the sake of justice, when he couldn’t accurately state what justice really was?

He worked for the police, trying to solve crimes and find “justice”. But the police had put away Henry Allen, an innocent man, and called that justice. Barry found evidence and found criminals and they were brought to “justice”, but if he ever revealed himself as the Streak, the vigilante that was stopping crimes and saving people in Starling City, he would be arrested, because that was “justice”.

It was complicated and messy, and Barry never wanted to think about it too deeply, but it was important that he did. Because now there was a new vigilante in Starling City, one who’s idea of justice was sticking an arrow through people.

“What should we do Bear?”

Barry was drawn out of his thoughts by Eddie’s question, and he sighed. He didn’t know what to do. It seemed that Barry never knew the important answers. Sure, he could answer questions in school, recite facts, memorize the periodic table, but the hardest answers to find always seemed to go hand in hand with the simplest questions.

“We wait.” Barry finally said decisively, ignoring the incredulous look on Eddie’s face. “We wait, and we watch, and we proceed very carefully, because whoever this guy is, he’s probably already watching us, or at least watching the Streak.”

“Bear, whoever this guy is, he’s bad news. Look I hate Adam Hunt as much as the next guy, but this “Hood” character, or whatever it is they’re calling him, can’t just go around killing people to get to criminals!”

Barry let out another sigh. He knew Eddie wouldn’t like the tentative plan he had formed, but it was all he had.

“I know Eddie. I’m not suggesting I team up with him or anything, but right now we hardly know anything about the guy, other than he’s extremely dangerous, and probably highly trained. But this guy probably knows as much about me as the public does, maybe more. Even if all he knows is conjecture, that’s over a year’s worth from a lot of different people, some of them highly intelligent. Those aren’t great odds.”

“And what are you planning to do once you stop waiting Barry?” Barry knew Eddie well enough to detect the concern phrased as an accusation. “Because you decided to be a hero and put away criminals, and I support you on that, but it looks like this guy is already a pretty big criminal. So when you’re done with this whole waiting game, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to him.” Barry steadfastly ignored the protest that immediately rose to Eddie’s lips, and he held up his hand in an effort to make the detective listen to him. “Look Eddie, what I do at night? Yeah I’m being a hero, but I’m breaking the law to do it. I’m a vigilante too and you know that. I know I don’t go around murdering people, but I’m not exactly staying within the law myself. The least I can do is talk to him first.”

Barry could tell that his friend didn’t like it, but he was determined to at least talk to this new vigilante before doing anything rash. The last thing Starling City needed was some sort of pissing contest between two men who likely just wanted the same thing, albeit in different ways. Saving Starling was what mattered, not who did the saving.

However, while Barry was willing to give this Hood guy a chance, like Eddie, Barry didn’t agree that sticking arrows through other people for anything other than self defense counted as “saving” anyone.

“I don’t agree with you here Bear, and I think this is a terrible idea. But I’ll support you, as long as I think you’re doing the right thing.” Barry nodded in appreciation. It wasn’t great, but it was far more than he expected. Eddie had a very strong sense of right and wrong, and his displeasure at the new situation wasn’t surprising to him. Barry had strong morals as well, but he was hopeful, far more than most, and always tried to see the good in people. Unfortunately, he worried that sometimes he sacrificed his own moral compass, trying to reach that good in someone.

Sighing, Eddie smiled, and although it was smaller and dimmer than usual, Barry didn’t comment on it. “C’mon. Let’s go grab a Big Belly Breakfast Burger. It looks like I’ll be losing a bet to McKenna soon enough.”

Barry frowned in curiosity. “What bet?”

This time Eddie’s grin was wide and practically wicked. “She bet you would get laid within the next year. I told her it would be at least two.”

Almost immediately the tension between the two men dissipated as Barry began spluttering indignantly, following Eddie to the car.


	2. Friendly Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly blown away at the response this fic has gotten so far, so thank you very much! This chapter was giving me trouble all week, so I'm glad to finally have it out for you guys!

Oliver took a steadying breath, trying to brace himself for the frenzy. He hadn’t expected the courtroom to shake him up as much as it had. Seeing Laurel immediately after hadn’t helped much either, and Oliver was still trying to numb the sting of the well-deserved  rejection.

Tommy was patting his shoulder comfortingly and leading him towards the door but Oliver felt as if he were moving through water. Everything seemed slower and disoriented until he suddenly spotted a pair of familiar green eyes.

"Barry!" Oliver called out, not caring that the relief was tangible in his voice. The sight of the now slightly familiar scientist was like a breath of air while Oliver was trying not to drown, and he was going to cling to this lifeline he had been tossed. The young man looked around, startled, his eyes widening in surprise when they finally rested on Oliver. Behind him Tommy let out a strange noise that Oliver took to be one of shock. Brushing off his friend and moving past his bodyguard, Oliver ignored their protests and made his way toward Barry with a determined air. As he drew closer Barry's eyes just seemed to widen until they were the size of saucers.

"Uh, hey Mr. Queen. Mr. Diggle. Merlyn." The curt tone Barry's voice took on when he said Tommy's name did not go by unnoticed. Oliver's eyes cut towards Tommy, and he saw that his best friend was scowling at the taller man. Oliver narrowed his eyes slightly. The two knew each other, and that relationship didn't seem amicable. Oliver desperately wanted to question Tommy, but he knew that would cast suspicion on him. Instead he decided to shrug it off, and figure out a way to interrogate his friend later. 

"What are you doing in court?"

Barry was fidgeting in a suit jacket and tie, looking wholly uncomfortable. Attractive, Oliver's brain supplied unhelpfully, but he shoved that thought out of his mind. He was having a conversation with the forensic scientist and not thinking about the crowd of people waiting to shove cameras in his face and ask invasive questions. Oliver repressed a shudder at the thought. He was stronger than that, he could handle a crowd. That was what Oliver kept telling himself at any rate. "Oh I'm testifying," Barry replied, and Oliver could have kicked himself. Of course Barry would be called to give testimony at least on occasion - he was the one who examined evidence and drew conclusions based upon it.

"Nothing glamorous or anything. I actually really hate testifying. Everyone else in the precinct hates it when I have to testify too."

Oliver frowned, his expression clearly indicating his confusion, but it was John Diggle that posed the question. "Why? You're clearly an adept scientist and know what you're talking about. I would think no one else would want to testify, so shouldn't they be happy the job is falling on you?"

More than anything Oliver wished he had a camera to capture the bright smile that suddenly spread across Barry's face, clearly receiving confidence from the compliment. "Well sometimes my age causes the jury to doubt my testimony. They think I don't know what I'm talking about, and I kind of have a problem with babbling sometimes," Barry flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "so most everyone prefers it when one of the older members of the CSI unit testifies. It adds more weight to the case." Barry shrugged, and Oliver was struck by how easily he seemed to take that slight in his stride.

Oliver was familiar enough with the Starling City Police Department, and though Oliver was grateful for the men and women who were willing to protect the city, he was aware that it wasn't necessarily the most hospitable of work environments. From what Oliver could tell there was a certain hierarchy and an unbecoming amount of cattiness among the ranks. Oliver knew well enough that the "lab rats" like Barry were likely considered at the bottom of the heap, despite the importance of their jobs. Barry being as young as he was, and likely one of the newest recruits probably only made things more difficult for him. Oliver was ashamed to admit that if Barry wasn't as...noticeable as he was, Oliver himself would probably be dismissive of the younger man and his job. However he had caught his interest and held it, and was now offering Oliver an out from the crowd he couldn't bring himself to face just yet, even if Barry didn't know it.

"Which case are you testifying for?" Diggle asked in curiosity. "The Nocenti case?"

Oliver's head snapped up suddenly, eyes bright with concern and focus. He pointedly ignored the way his heart started beating faster. Laurel was already working on that case, much to Oliver's chagrin. He didn't want Barry anywhere near it also. Oliver chose to ignore what exactly that thought meant to him. Barry was someone Oliver liked, a potential ally and friend. Oliver would need those after all, and he didn't want both Barry and Laurel in a dangerous situation, especially not when Oliver couldn't be sure he could save both of them.

God this was only the second time he had met this kid.

Thankfully Barry was shaking his head. "Nah I wasn't on that case. That's pretty high profile, so Kelton will probably testify or something. But I think what Laurel is doing is great. Everyone knows that Martin Sommers is scum," the scowl Barry wore looked out of place on his face, "so it's good to see that someone is willing to bring him to justice."

In his periphery vision Oliver saw Tommy rolling his eyes. "Yes well Laurel is going to be declared patron saint of the Glades any day now," Tommy snapped sarcastically, ignoring Oliver's frown in his direction. "I hope you can make it to the canonization. In the meantime, we should really be on our way." It was far too blatant to be considered anything less than a hint, but Oliver wished he could play dumb and pretend it wasn't obvious that Tommy wanted to leave.

Oliver still wasn't ready to face the crowd yet, and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever be ready. If the choice was between making his way through the mass of people all wanting to know his darkest secrets, dredging up memories he didn't want to surface, or talking to the bright, animated young forensic scientist that had already caught his eye, the choice was obvious to everyone but Tommy.

"Hey." Barry's voice was pitched low and gentle, and when Oliver glanced at him, he found that those green eyes were focused intensely on him. "Try breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Deep breaths, but breathe normally. Pick a spot on the wall where you're trying to get to, and focus on that. It might help you block everything out."

Oliver couldn't explain the feeling of relief that flooded through his veins at the advice. Somehow, despite meeting Oliver less than a week ago, and having a total of two conversations with him, Barry understood. He could tell that Oliver was panicking, and not only did he understand, he had offered his help. Feeling the tug on his arm as Tommy urged Oliver to begin making his way to the doors, Oliver gave Barry a silent nod, a gesture of gratitude that he didn't have the words to voice.

Thankfully Barry seemed to understand Oliver's wordless thank you as well as he had the panic that had settled underneath Oliver's skin. He grinned brightly before heading to wherever he was supposed to be. Closing his eyes, Oliver took a deep breath and began pushing through the crowd with new resolve.

* * *

“I’m sorry I’m late!” Barry cried, practically by rote as he hurried into the booth across from the lawyer. Laurel pursed her lips, but Barry knew she was hiding a smile rather than expressing irritation. Laurel had experienced Barry’s lack of punctuality firsthand, and had heard plenty about it from her father. Hell, Barry had been fifteen minutes late to their brief, disastrous attempt at a date.

“Always tell Barry Allen to be somewhere thirty minutes before you want him, and maybe he’ll get there on time.” She said teasingly. Barry rolled his eyes at Laurel, tugging his satchel off and glancing around.

“Man it’s crowded today.” He noted casually, trying to ignore the careful gaze focused on him. Laurel was a brilliant lawyer and the daughter of a detective. Whatever she had on her mind, Barry was worried it would put him in an uncomfortable position.

His mind was already flashing with the thousands of possibilities, all ranging from bad to worse. For all Barry knew, Laurel had discovered what exactly he was getting up to at night. Barry wouldn't be surprised if she planned on springing the knowledge that she had found out he was the Streak over lunch. This was the same woman that had staged an intervention over Barry's music obsessions.

"I think we both know that's not why I invited you to lunch today Barry," Laurel pointed out, and Barry groaned softly. Laurel's voice was smooth and honey-like, meaning that whatever it was Barry had done, he was in so much trouble.

She had definitely found out he was the Streak.

"Can't we ever be two normal friends going out for lunch?" He complained, but Laurel just brushed him off, staring him in the eye. Barry swallowed heavily. If he didn't know any better, he would guess that Laurel was somehow reading his mind. At this point, he wouldn't be too surprised. Barry had decided to make the impossible a lifestyle after all.

"We're not normal. Besides, I want to talk to you and it's important." Barry sighed deeply, and took a sip of the water Laurel had already ordered for him and waved her on. "I saw you talking to Oliver Queen at the courthouse."

Almost immediately Barry choked on the large sip he had taken, spluttering foolishly and spraying water all over the table and Laurel. She glared at him without any real heat, but Barry was too busy laughing and trying not to choke to death to pay her any mind.

"Wait a minute. You called me up to have lunch to talk about me having a conversation with Oliver Queen?" Barry was disbelieving, and he watched as a tiny frown creased between Laurel's eyebrows.

"Well what did you think I wanted to talk to you about?" She asked suspiciously, crossing her arms over her chest.

Barry shrugged, trying to remain casual as he scrambled for a cover. "I dunno, me being in trouble with your dad? My One Direction obsession?"

Laurel rolled her eyes to the heavens, but Barry wasn't having any of it. "Oh no way, none of those judgmental eyes, I know for a fact you had a NSYNC poster in your bedroom until you were twenty-three." Laurel scowled, clearly regretting that information slip during a drunken game of truth or dare.

"Well you were wrong. We're not here to talk about your shitty taste in music, we're talking about your shitty taste in men."

At that Barry really did protest. "What? My taste in - c'mon Laurel, we talked for like two minutes! We've had two conversations, I'm missing the problem here." He peered at Laurel carefully. "Are you jealous?" Barry ignored the way the question made his stomach flip unpleasantly, and focused on Laurel's response.

She blushed, but shook her head fervently. "No. I am absolutely done with Oliver Queen. That ship sailed and sank. Literally." Barry snorted; one thing he would always appreciate was Laurel's razor sharp wit. "But I am worried. About you."

Barry didn't bother trying to hide his sigh, but Laurel wasn't putting up with it. "No Barry, I'm serious. You're not the only one who knows secrets here, I know you've had a crush on Oliver forever." Barry blushed and hushed her, glancing around the restaurant while Laurel rolled her eyes. It didn't appear that anyone had overheard, but really, did she have to scream it out to the entire establishment?

Never mind that it was actually true.

"Oliver Queen is bad news. I know how disappointing it can be to meet your heroes in real life, and you've had enough disappointment to last you a lifetime Barry. I just don't want you getting hurt."

"Laurel," Barry began, "I appreciate you looking out for me, really I do. But you're making a mountain out of a molehill here. I mean, sure the guy is crazy hot, but he's literally a celebrity crush. I've spoken to him twice, and that time in the courthouse was hardly anything. I was just an avoidance tactic for him. The first time we were chaperoned by your dad and Detective Hilton." He grinned at Laurel. "Besides, you know me. Friends with benefits, and one-night stands aren't my style."

Unfortunately that statement didn't seem to set Laurel at ease. "No, your style is to fall hard and fast for someone and stay in love and pining for them for years." She pointed out, causing Barry to wince at the harsh truth. Laurel wasn't unnecessarily cruel with him, but she was brutally honest. It was part of what made them such good friends, to the surprise of everyone who paid them any mind in the precinct. "I just don't want to see you falling for Oliver."

Barry sighed and shook his head. "Laurel, I'm not going to argue with you, but I think you're turning this into something it's not. I mean I don't even know if Oliver Queen is into men."

Laurel shrugged. "He's experimented before, I know that. And he certainly seemed into you at the courthouse."

Barry gaped for a moment, before shaking his head. "Laur, that's not your business to tell me. Even if Oliver told you that, you can't go around telling people stuff like that, it's not right." Laurel looked chastised, and Barry shot her a wry grin. "Besides, you're trying to convince me away from him? That doesn't exactly help, you know that right?"

It was Laurel's turn to sigh and shake her head. "I'm just worried about you Barry," she said softly. "I want you to be happy, more than anything, but you're just now getting over Iris. I'm just scared you might transfer your feelings for her and project them onto Oliver because you think he's unattainable."

Barry had to fight the surge of annoyance at that comment, but he wasn't completely successful at keeping the bitterness out of his voice when he spoke again. "So you think I'm interested in Oliver Queen because he's another person that would never be interested in me. Thanks Laurel, love you too."

The lawyer frowned at him, reaching for his hand. "Bear, you know that's not what I meant. I think Oliver is going to be very interested in you, and that's the problem. I just don't want you to fall for him, because he's not Iris, Barry. He's not stupid, even though he does a good job at convincing the world otherwise. He'll notice if you're interested in him, and he'll use you and then leave you."

"And you got all of this from seeing one conversation?" Barry asked sarcastically, still having trouble shaking off the anger and hurt from Laurel's comments.

She met his gaze seriously and shook her head.

"No. I got all of that from seeing the way you looked at him, and the way he looked back at you Barry."

* * *

Although Oliver hadn't really doubted it before, there was now no question in his mind regarding the existence of the Streak. He had seen it with his own two eyes, and it left Oliver with more questions than answers. The Streak was undeniably human, but somehow seeing it didn't make comprehending any easier for Oliver. Seeing the Streak hadn't helped Oliver formulate a plan - it had only interfered with the tentative ideas he had previously been mulling over.

The idea of following the Streak to see what he got up to was obviously out. Oliver doubted any other human alive could move that fast - even with something like the Mirakuru. It only left Oliver wondering how the Streak managed it. Needing to clear his head, Oliver had decided to take Thea's advice, and sought out Laurel.

The combined forces of Laurel and ice cream managed to successfully divert Oliver's attention away from the Streak, at least until he made his way into the kitchen for a glass of water and spotted her tablet lying on the table, open to a blog page about the Streak. Oliver sighed and returned to the living room with a frown.

"So what do you make of this whole Streak thing?" His tone was casual, but Laurel had always been able to see right through his masks - all except the one he wore at night when avenging his city. "I come back and find out that suddenly our city has a superhero."

Laurel frowned, clearly taking her time to construct her answer, making Oliver's stomach sink. She had given the subject plenty of thought; too much thought.

"I think he's a good thing. He helps Starling City, he helps people in the Glades. Civilian death and property destruction is highly minimized in crimes connected to a Streak appearance, which obviously sets him apart from the Batman." Oliver inclined his head - he couldn't disagree that Gotham City's vigilante certainly had a cavalier attitude toward the taxpayers' public property. "I don't know where he came from, but I believe in him, and I think he's what the city needs. Him and the new kid on the block, the Hood."

Oliver bit back a wince; he hadn't wanted the conversation to turn toward the Hood. It was one thing to discuss the Streak with Laurel, to gently probe her for information and opinions. That was easy enough to disguise as curiosity borne from five years spent on a deserted island. Talking about the Hood with his ex-girlfriend who he still cared for deeply - the only woman who had ever been able to see the real Oliver Queen - when he was, in fact the vigilante in question, was another matter entirely.

Thankfully Laurel changed the subject on her own.

"So I saw you talking to Barry today. What was that about?" Oliver had to rein in his sudden burning curiosity. Laurel knew Barry. How did she know Barry? Did she know why there was animosity between Barry and Tommy? How did the two of them meet? Why was this the first Oliver was hearing about Laurel and Barry? Were Laurel and Barry LaurelandBarry?

All of the questions were highly inappropriate, and Oliver didn't even want to bother untangling the feelings of confusion and jealousy that rose at the thought of the last one. Instead he quirked an eyebrow up and glanced at Laurel. "Nothing really. The crowd was just a little overwhelming and I spotted a familiar face. I met him the day the Hood saved me and Tommy. What about you, how do you know Barry?"

Laurel snorted and shook her head, amusement clear in her eyes. "He ran into me when I was stopping by the precinct to visit my dad. Literally, ran straight into me. Everyone was laughing and I was furious - he got coffee all over my shirt - but he was just stammering and blushing and so damn polite and embarrassed. He asked me out on accident, and I couldn't help but say yes." Oliver's stomach plummeted - God what was wrong with him? "The date was a disaster, but he's become a good friend of mine since then."

Oliver couldn't have hidden the wide grin that spread across his face if he had tried. Laurel and Barry weren't dating then. He still wasn't sure what to make of the elation currently dancing in his system. Despite their admittedly terrible attempts at hiding it, Oliver knew Laurel and Tommy were sleeping together, so why should he be so happy to find out that she and Barry were not seeing each other?

Oliver Queen knew what love was - he had been in love with Laurel for the past five years. Longer, though it had taken a shipwreck to prove that to him. He knew he wasn't in love with Barry Allen, especially not after two meetings. Love at first sight simply did not exist, not for Oliver Queen. However he was self-aware enough to know Barry stirred feelings beyond simple attraction in him. There was something so pure and good about him, that Oliver couldn't help be drawn to that. Barry awakened an innocent curiosity in Oliver, he intrigued the older man. Oliver wanted to know more about Barry, not for the purpose of getting him in his bed, but simply getting to know him.

For the first time in over five years, probably even longer, Oliver craved someone's friendship for nothing other than wanting to be Barry's friend. It was a strange and jarring feeling, completely at odds with the new life Oliver had resigned himself to.

Laurel frowned at him and cleared her throat, eyes narrowed, and Oliver realized he had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had clearly failed some sort of test of Laurel's.

"Do not hurt him Oliver Queen. I'm not an idiot, I know when you're interested in him, and your eyes were practically heart emojis at the courthouse."

Oliver frowned in genuine confusion. "Emojis?" Laurel rolled her eyes, and Oliver decided he didn't want to know. He could always ask Thea later.

"Laurel, I'm not going to hurt him." She scoffed, and Oliver sighed. "I mean it Laurel. I'm not interested in him like that." Another scoff, one that dug at Oliver this time. "Laurel. I just want to be his friend. I don't exactly have a lot of those anymore, and being on the island made me reexamine my ideas of friendship. There's just something....something good about Barry. I can't really explain it."

Laurel frowned at Oliver for a few more minutes, before softening her gaze slightly and sighing. "I believe you. I know what you mean. Barry's a good man." Oliver nodded, and she smiled softly at him. "So are you Ollie. Maybe you are a little bit damaged, but you are a good person. I've always believed that."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Oliver forced a smile, and grabbed the pint of ice cream, taking another bite and shifting the conversation to his mother's plans for Queen Consolidated, and how exactly her son was supposed to fit into the grand scheme.

 

* * *

 

 

"Bear? Barry?"

Eddie's concerned voice startled Barry out of his thoughts, and he looked up in confusion, straight into the worried eyes of the detective. It took him another second to realize that Eddie had his hand on Barry's shoulder, and appeared to have been trying to get his attention for some time now. Cursing internally, Barry shifted, dropping his leg that had been propped up on his left thigh to the floor.

"Sorry Eddie, I wasn't listening. Do you need the prints for the Abercrombie case?"

"No that's not it. Well I mean, yes, I do need those, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Are you okay?" Eddie lowered his voice and glanced around. "Did something happen last night? You sound off?"

Barry sighed, and turned away from Eddie, heading across his lab to grab the results his friend needed. "Plenty happened last night. and I wasn't there for any of it."

Eddie frowned, and glanced at his phone. "Your sister's blog is saying that the Streak rescued eight people from a burning building and caught a murderer."

Barry scoffed, a self-deprecating noise, and he crossed his arms over his chest, praying that Eddie didn't recognize the defensive gesture for what it was. "First of all, she's not my sister. And no one cares about that. All anyone can talk about is what the vigilante did last night with Sommers."

Eddie's frown deepened, and he became disapproving. "Bear, are you seriously upset that some whackjob with a bow and arrow is getting more attention than you? That's not like you at all, so what's this about?"

A part of Barry wanted to curse his friend for being so damn observant, but he couldn't. It was just what made Eddie a great detective, and an even better friend. Barry was still having to adjust to having friends who were willing to turn over every rock and pry his emotions out of him, to make sure he was alright. Of course Iris had always been that kind of person, but Barry had plenty of lonely years, another commonality he shared with Eddie.

"Laurel and Oliver Queen were attacked last night." Barry said, swallowing heavily and shaking his head. "That's the only other thing anyone in the precinct is talking about today. They're okay, but...they're my friends Eddie. You - you know what having friends means to me, for the first time in my life I don't feel so alone. I've been happy, and Laurel has a lot to do with that, just like you. And...I know it's stupid, but I feel like Oliver and I could be friends too."

Barry was rambling and he knew it, but Eddie was listening patiently, knowing how important it was for the scientist to say this out loud. Barry's chest was heaving, but he continued, determined to get to his actual point.

"Last night they were in trouble and I wasn't there to help them. What point is there in saving people if I can't even save the people I care about? Saving some strangers in the Glades is easy, but I can't even help my friends when it counts?"

As soon as Barry saw the look on Eddie's face, he wanted to spin on his heel and run the other direction. The detective wore a heartbroken expression, clearly upset on Barry's behalf.

"Bear, you can't really think that. You're right, I don know how important Laurel is to you, but we both know how important justice, and the Glades, and protecting the little guy is to her. That's what you're doing every night. You may be the fastest person on the planet, but even you can't be in multiple places at once. You didn't know Laurel and Oliver were in danger, but Barry you're not responsible for everything that happens in this city."

Barry ran a hand through his hair, trying to process Eddie's words, using every bit of self control not to dismiss them instantly. "I could have done more," he argued stubbornly, and Eddie sighed.

"What else could you have done Bear? They're grown adults - they're older than you. I'm not saying you're a kid, don't give me that look. But Laurel is the daughter of a detective, she's grown up around the precinct her entire life. Oliver's got a bodyguard, and he seems like he can hold his own. They're both okay now, so why are you beating yourself up for what you couldn't do?"

He sighed heavily. How was Barry supposed to explain to Eddie the feelings of dread and fear he was practically choking on, when he could barely comprehend it himself?

Being the Streak was difficult, and Barry would never say otherwise. It was rewarding, but hard. It was dangerous of course, but what weighed on him heavier than anything were the people he couldn’t save. There were too many of them. A man he couldn’t get to in time, a teenager walking home that he wasn’t fast enough to reach before someone else snatched them out of thin air. The faces of those he wasn’t enough to save flashed in front of his eyes every night. How could he cope if one day it was the faces of one of his friends that haunted him?

"But what about next time? What if it were you, or Cisco, or Cait?"

"What if it were Iris?" Eddie argued, refusing to back down. "What if Joe gets in a car accident, or your dad gets beaten up in prison?" Barry reeled back in horror, as if struck down physically by Eddie's words. "Barry life just happens. Being fast doesn't stop that, it's just part of being human. There are accidents, and tragedies, and maybe you can stop some of them, but you can't stop all of them. That's not your job. None of this is your job, but you decided to save people, to be a hero. The city is grateful for that, but you can't crucify yourself for every single crime you can't stop." Eddie sighed, and moved towards Barry, clasping his hand on Barry's shoulder once again.

The forensic assistant looked away in embarrassment, determined not to let Eddie see the tears gathering in his eyes, and Eddie allowed him to keep his head turned.

"You're a hero Barry. I've always known that, and I'm always going to be here to remind you of that. But being a hero doesn't always mean saving the girl or guy. Being a hero means doing the right thing, even when it's hard or dangerous. That's what you do every night. I know what it's like, to be angry at myself for not doing more, even if everything turns out alright in the end. But you can't change the past Barry. You can't go back and do more, you can only go forward."

Barry took a deep breath and nodded. Eddie had always given sound advice, and he had given Barry plenty to think about. He wiped at his eyes, and gave Eddie a small smile. "Thanks Eddie. I promise I'll try not to dwell on it too much."

The blonde grinned. "Good. Now c'mon, turn on your television. McKenna just texted me that Oliver Queen is making a fool of himself at some groundbreaking."

 


	3. Angels in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for [Granvas](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Granvas/pseuds/Granvas)! Thank you so much to everyone who leaves kudos and comments, it means the world to me!

“It’s not the Hood.”

Eddie hadn’t spoken yet, but Barry had grown accustomed to hearing his friend’s footsteps. Besides, he was one of the few that actually bothered to knock on the door to the lab. When he turned around, he saw the detective raising his eyebrows.

“Okay. Not that I don’t believe you or anything, but the rest of the precinct thinks it’s him. Want to tell me why you think it’s not?”

Barry rolled his eyes, catching what Eddie was hinting at.

“I don’t know because of...Streak stuff,” he glanced around nervously when he said it, “But the perp used a bullet laced with curare. Setting aside the fact that the Hood has never used firearms before, curare is extremely rare and deadly. It’s also the calling card of a mercenary known as Deadshot.”

Eddie frowned, and leaned over Barry’s shoulder, looking at his results. “Huh. You know who else doesn’t believe it was the Hood?”

Barry tilted his head to the side curiously, the question written in his eyes.

“Detective Lance.”

Barry swiveled in his rolling chair so quickly that he accidentally kicked Eddie, who winced and doubled over.

“Sorry - crap I’m - but wait, Lance doesn’t think it’s the Hood?”

He cringed as Eddie hobbled over to a spare chair and sat down.

“No, he’s pretty dead set that it’s not the Hood for once.”

Barry leaned back in surprise. “Wow. I mean everyone knows that Lance has a huge grudge against the guy, I’d have thought for sure he would try to pin just about anything on the Hood.”

Eddie shrugged. “Well I mean he’s not the nicest guy in the world, but he is a good detective for a reason Bear.”

The detective had a point, but Barry just shrugged. Lance wasn’t horrible, but he certainly wasn’t Barry’s favorite person in the world.

“But speaking of Lance, I actually came up to tell you that he wanted you. Apparently Thea Queen got arrested last night and needs an escort home.”

Barry frowned. “Wait, I’m needed as an escort? Why? That’s...that’s literally the furthest thing from my job description.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah no kidding. But the Queens aren’t exactly fond of the police and vice versa.”

“Exactly, so what I’m supposed to be some sort of happy medium?”

The blonde shrugged. “Something like that. But you hit it off pretty well with Oliver Queen remember? Who’s to say you can’t do the same with his little sister?”

The brunette stuck his tongue out. “When do I have to leave?”

"He wants you down there in the next five minutes, so mentally prepare yourself."

Barry pulled a face, but there was truth in Eddie's warning. Lance didn't seem to like anyone other than his daughter, and since Barry was not only a lab rat, but a lab rat that had gone on one - and only one - date with said daughter, and had made friends with Lance's mortal enemy, the older detective wasn't exactly fond of Barry. Frankly Barry thought the whole thing was rather dramatic, but he didn't really need specific reasons to go out of his way to avoid the grumpy man.

"By the way, Joanna texted me. She's making Laurel go out and have some fun tonight, and she expects me to do the same with you."

"What - Eddie no. C'mon, no!" Barry protested, but Eddie was just smirking at him.

"Nope, you're not getting out of this one man. You and I are going to join the girls. We're going to go clubbing!" Barry groaned, and covered his face with his hands. "What's the matter? You're a fantastic dancer Barry! I don't understand why you never want to go clubbing."

"Because that makes me sound like a nineteen year old and it's already hard enough to convince people I can legally drink?" Barry protested, waving his hand for emphasis. "I mean dancing alone in my room is one thing, but dancing in public? In a club? Not my style Eddie."

"Well too bad, because we're going. You and Laurel are going to have a good time."

"I can't, I've got Streak stuff," Barry lied, clinging desperately at straws. "I promised Cisco I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"No you don't. Besides, Cisco is meeting up with Caitlin for drinks tonight." Barry winced, both at being caught in the lie, and finding out what Cisco's plans were. If Caitlin was included in them, that meant Barry could definitely not use Cisco as an excuse. Unfortunately his only other friends in Starling City were the ones currently trying to get him to go out.

"Can't we just go out and get coffee instead? That's fun."

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Bear, we get coffee all the time. We're doing something different and fun. Trust me, you're going to have a blast. It's going to be great, I promise!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Barry muttered unhappily, under his breath. Eddie just smiled even wider. "Fine! Fine, I promise I'll go, but I also promise I won't like it."

Eddie stood up to leave, and Barry sighed, gathering his stuff and grabbing his satchel. Eddie had just made it to the door of the lab when he turned, a wicked grin playing on his face.

“But back to Thea Queen, I think you’re the one who’s closest in age to Thea. You two should have plenty to talk about.”

“I’m twenty-three!” Barry called out indignantly, but Eddie was already walking away, and the passing officers just laughed while Barry groaned. Sighing, he pulled on his coat and made his way down the stairs and headed toward where Detective Lance was standing. Peering around his friend’s father slightly, he saw Thea Queen slumped in a chair, a bored expression on her face.

“Christ, I thought you were getting us help babysitting Queen, not another kid to babysit!” One of the officers next to Lance protested, and Barry rolled his eyes. He didn’t mind so much when Eddie teased him about his so-called “baby face”, but it got pretty old coming from the rest of the precinct. At least with Eddie, Barry knew he was respected for what he could do as a scientist. As far as the rest of the police force was concerned, he was just a lab rat that looked like he ran away from his parents to play cop.

“Shut it Rutherford. The Queens already give us enough grief,”

“Gee, I wonder why.” Thea muttered sarcastically, and Lance rolled his eyes, but Barry had to cover his smirk with his hand.

“Allen managed to get on their good side somehow. Taking him will make it easier.”

“You do know this isn’t my job, right?” Barry asked idly, fidgeting uncomfortably when all the attention in the room turned to him. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be running ballistics, and blood, all the science stuff? Dropping people off isn’t really what I was hired for.”

“Just go with them Allen, and try not to be late coming back.”

With that Lance stalked off, muttering something about college kids, and Barry rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, I suppose we’d better bring you home then Ms. Queen.”

“Can’t wait.” She rose from the chair and flounced off after Rutherford. Barry sighed and raised his eyes heavenward. Already this was turning into an extremely long morning. At least he might get to see Oliver.

Barry tried to ignore how his heart jumped at the thought, and just groaned inwardly.

 

* * *

 

Oliver had wandered away under the guise of getting a drink, however in all honesty he was just trying to escape the awkwardness. Thea hadn't told him anything he didn't know. He may have flunked out of four colleges, but he had never been stupid. After five years quite literally fighting for his life, he was more attentive than ever. He had known about Laurel and Tommy practically as soon as he arrived home. Still, the confirmation hurt.

Just as Oliver was taking a deep breath to steady himself, someone stumbled into him.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention!" Barry was babbling, but Oliver didn't care. Somehow just the sight of the other man brought a smile to his face. He had caught a glimpse of him earlier that day, when he had accompanied the officers that brought Thea home, but he hadn't been able to do much other than give Barry a nod of acknowledgement.

"Barry, hey."

The scientist's green eyes widened as he realized who he had stumbled into. "Oliver! I didn't even see you there. Did I spill anything on you?"

Oliver chuckled slightly and shook his head. "No, you're good. Barry, are you drunk?" He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice as he took in Barry's appearance, but he was still slightly concerned. Of course, Barry was an adult and could take care of himself, but Oliver knew firsthand what alcohol could do to someone if they weren't monitoring their intake.

However Barry seemed to find the question funny, and burst into laughter.

"No, I am most definitely not drunk. I may look like a lightweight, but I can handle my liquor pretty well." Barry's eyes were sparkling with a mischief that hinted at something he wasn't telling Oliver, but he couldn't even bring himself to be too curious, when he was on the receiving end of a gaze like that. "Unfortunately my clumsiness is all natural. So what are you doing here?"

"I'm opening a nightclub," Oliver said, his voice raised so that Barry could hear him over the din. "Tommy decided to bring me here to check out the competition. What about you? Is this your typical hangout spot?"

Barry scoffed and rolled his eyes, causing Oliver to grin.

"Not hardly. But Laurel's friend was insisting that she have some fun, so Laurel decided to make me come along too. And then she texted Eddie, and long story short, my friends decided Netflix no longer counts as having a social life anymore."

Oliver chuckled, however it was slightly hollow. Laurel and Eddie? Oliver wondered just how close they were to Barry, to make him come out to a nightclub when it wasn't his typical scene.

Barry opened his mouth to say something else, however he was interrupted by another familiar - and much less pleasant voice coming from behind Oliver.

"Well look at this. Oliver Queen."

Oliver closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he caught a glimpse of Barry looking at him strangely. He turned and forced a smile on his face.

"Max Fuller. How have you been?"

The club owner gave Oliver a cold smile, and he mentally braced himself for the inevitable pain and humiliation. He only wished it didn't have to happen in front of Barry, but he doubted he would be that lucky.

"Happy you drowned." Suddenly his arms were being grabbed by two of the bouncers, and Oliver gritted his teeth. He could break out of the hold easily enough, but not without raising some serious questions.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing?" Barry was protesting, and when Oliver twisted to see what was happening, his blood ran hot when he watched a third bouncer wrap his hands around Barry's arms in a bruising grip.

"C'mon Max, let him go, he's not doing anything!" Unfortunately Oliver's objections fell on deaf ears, and Fuller's men dragged them back to one of the private rooms.  

Oliver glanced around. It was spacious, with several couches lining the walls. Instead of a door, curtains sequestered the room from the main area of the club. He was looking for anything to help, but he knew if he didn't want to give himself away he was going to have to just take the punches. Oliver could handle that, but he wasn't about to let Barry get dragged into this fight.

"Woah, what's going on here?" Tommy ducked behind the curtains and joined them, glancing from Oliver and Barry to Max and his bouncers. "Let him go. Hey! I said let him go!"

Fuller just rolled his eyes. "Back off Merlyn, this isn't your problem."

"Told you he was going to be pissed." Oliver muttered underneath his breath, and Tommy sighed.

"Look, if you want Oliver, you're going to have to go through me."

"Pretty sure that's exactly what they're planning on doing Merlyn," Barry snorted, and despite the situation, Oliver had to swallow down the urge to chuckle. Tommy turned to glare at the forensic scientist, and that was exactly when the bouncers struck.

The burly man to Oliver's right sent him sprawling to the ground with a well placed punch, and he let out a groan, scrambling to his feet and sending a punch flying, purposefully making some amateur mistakes. He was still cognizant of Barry in the room, and he knew how observant the younger man was. Oliver knew he still needed to cast suspicion on himself, and fairly soon. He couldn't give the other man any other reason to continue to suspect him after he was proven to be innocent.

Speaking of Barry, the scientist seemed to be doing alright on his own, dodging the punches thrown his way with a surprising amount of speed. Oliver paused for a moment, concern growing in the pit of his stomach. Just why was Barry so adept at ducking?

That moment of distraction cost him, and another fist connected with his jaw.

"Hey, stop it!" Barry cried out, and rage boiled in Oliver's veins when one of the bouncers finally landed a hit on Barry, and sent the lanky man to the ground with a groan.

"Hey!" Oliver turned around, and suddenly two more people had entered the room. Oliver watched with surprise as Laurel punched at kicked at Max, sending him toppling. A blonde man he didn't recognize had followed, and widened his eyes, hurrying over to Barry.

"Knock it off, now!" He called angrily, and Max sneered as he scrambled to his feet.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have you arrested for assaulting part of the police force." He reached in his pants pocket and showed his badge, and Max gnashed his teeth.

"Out. All of you out. You're all banned for life!" He turned on his heel and marched off, leaving the five of them alone in the room. Laurel sent Oliver a glare, before shaking her head and stalking off.

Tommy glanced at Oliver, an apology clearly written on his face, but Oliver just shook his head. "Tommy, I already told you. It's okay. Go after her." Tommy lingered for a moment, but his eyes drifted over to Barry and hardened. It seemed to spurn him forward, and after nodding, he hurried after Oliver's ex-girlfriend.

"Are you okay?" Oliver turned, glancing back at Barry, and his stomach gave a painful lurch. The blonde detective was standing with one hand on Barry's upper back, the other cupping his chin, examining the blood at the corner of his swollen lip.

"Shit, Barry I'm sorry." Oliver moved closer, running a hand through his hair. "I knew better than to come here. There's bad blood between Max Fuller and I. I never meant for you to get dragged into this."

"Don't worry about it Oliver," Barry said with a grin, still managing to beam like the son, even with a busted lip. "I heal pretty quickly." Beside him the blonde chuckled, and Barry looked surprised.

"Oh right, Oliver this is Eddie Thawne. He's a friend of mine at the precinct. And Eddie, this is Oliver Queen."

Oliver's stomach clenched tightly. Were they just friends? He pushed the thought away viciously. It didn't matter if they were or if they weren't. It wasn't any of his business, and he had enough going on in his life. There were his lingering few feelings for Laurel, and his nighttime endeavors to consider.

But that didn’t mean the thought of Barry being with Eddie didn’t make him want to punch something.

“Trust me, I’ve heard all about you Mr. Queen.”

Oliver repressed a sigh, and plastered a fake smile on his face. Of course, Eddie had heard all about his escapades in the past.

“Okay, I think that’s enough from Eddie.” Barry was bright red, and glaring at his friend. Oliver’s lips quirked into a slight smile, genuine this time. It was kind of adorable, not that Oliver would ever admit to that. “We should probably get going. We both have work tomorrow.”

Oliver was disappointed, but he nodded. “Of course. Again, I’m sorry you got hurt in the crossfire. I’ll be seeing you around I’m sure.” Without waiting for a response, he ducked out of the room, taking a deep breath, before letting his eyes travel around the room, looking for Tommy and Diggle. It was time to get refocused.

 

* * *

 

"Barry are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," Barry answered honestly, ducking behind the corner of a hallway when he saw someone approaching. "I think this is an awful idea, but I have to do something to help."

"Man, you work for the police, and when you're not solving cases being a scientist, you're running around this whole city. Maybe you should take the night off, let the Hood dude handle this one."

Barry sighed. Cisco had a good point, and he couldn't really dispute it. This was out of character for Barry, out of character for the Streak. He saved people from buildings, helped put out fires...things like that. Tonight though, he was lingering around an auction for the most elite of Starling City. Something was going to happen tonight, something bad, and it was all centered around Unidac Industries. As far as Barry - and the police - knew, there was a very real possibility that someone could get hurt.

However the Hood knew even more than that, which was the real reason why Barry was here. Of course he wanted to save people, but the wealthy elite rarely needed his help. The Hood had far more experience with them than Barry did, though he didn't really think the Hood was a great friend to many of them.

But questionable methods aside, the Hood was more proactive than the Streak was, and he was several steps ahead of Barry. Even though Lance hadn't admitted to it, Barry knew the Hood was the one that had tipped Lance off about the party. The Hood knew more than he was sharing, and Barry fully intended to find out what that was.

He had decided to meet with the Hood, though he still wasn't sure when he was going to approach him. Both Eddie and Cisco had their own opinions on that, but Barry had already decided. He was going to run into the Hood at one point or another, and it was better that they meet before it was a life or death scenario. Then again, knowing Starling City, that was a very real possibility.

Barry sighed, and dragged his hand down his face. He wouldn't trade being the Streak for anything - though he certainly wouldn't mind having a better name - but it left him exhausted. Between his day job, running circles around Starling City, and being a guinea pig for whatever tests Cisco had to run, he was growing increasingly tired. He half wondered if he would be able to figure out who the Hood was in a few months based on who was wandering around like a mindless zombie.

"See your boyfriend anywhere Bear?"

Barry sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. He knew Cisco wouldn't be able to see it, but he was fairly sure the engineer knew exactly what Barry was doing. They had spent enough time working together to pick up on one another's mannerisms.

"Oliver Queen is not my boyfriend Cisco," He muttered under his breath.

"That's funny, because I didn't say anything about Oliver Queen."

Barry groaned out loud at the sound of delight in Cisco's voice. Now that Barry was thinking about it, his friend hadn't mentioned Oliver. Eddie had probably told Cisco about their encounters, but the mechanical engineer was also positive there was something going on between Eddie and Barry, though they had assured him multiple times they were only friends. It was possible Cisco had been referencing Eddie, and Barry had revealed just how enamored by Oliver Queen he really was.

"So when did this happen? I would have thought I'd have heard something by now, either from my good friend Barry, or the news stations, since apparently he has a thing going with some billionaire."

"Cisco, there's nothing going on between us. We're friends, that's it."

"Uh-huh."

Barry could tell that Cisco didn't believe him in the slightest, but his attention was diverted when he noticed a small red dot located on a man in a tuxedo. It was a laser, and it was focused on none other than Walter Steele.

In an instant Barry ran to the man and pushed him to the ground. He saw the bullet shatter the glass of the window, and a waiter move to where Walter had been standing only a microsecond before. Lightning flickered in Barry's eyes, and he snatched the waiter down, the bullet just grazing the top of the man's head. Half a second later the room was full of screams.

Detective Lance was making his way toward them, crouched low to avoid any bullets, and Barry began vibrating, disguising his face and his voice.

"Detective, we need to get these people to safety." There was a part of Barry that longed to go after the shooter, but he couldn't do that, not now. He knew the Hood was around somewhere, and even though he had never met the other vigilante, Barry had to trust him to take care of the shooter. The Streak was in the business of saving people, and that was what Barry had to do. He could help get people to safety, and that was what he had to do.

"You have to trust me detective."

Without waiting for an answer, Barry began speeding around, trying to grab as many people as he could, and run them to safety. He returned to the room and glanced around. Detective Lance was helping Walter Steele and the waiter, clinging to the walls of the room. A few feet away, Barry's stomach flipped as he saw Oliver and the rest of the Queens. The billionaire was pushing his mother and sister toward his bodyguard, before running off in the opposite direction. Barry wanted to scream at him to stop, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't go after Oliver either, no matter how much he wanted to. Not with all these people here. Moira and Thea were clearly desperate and distraught, so Barry sped over to them as quickly as possible.

"I've got them." He said to the bodyguard, John Diggle, who was staring at Barry with wide eyes. "Go after him!" Without sparing another second, Barry grabbed Moira and Thea and ran them to safety, quickly finding Walter in the panicked crowd.

"T-thank you!" He heard Thea call out, but he didn't stop to acknowledge her, before speeding down the building and across the street. In only a few seconds he made it to the right level, but he was still too late.

"Barry, what's going on?" Cisco was yelling in his ear, and Barry sighed.

"He's dead. Deadshot is dead."

Cisco cursed into the comms.

"The Hood?"

"Well since there's an arrow sticking out of the guy's eye, I'm going to say yeah, it was definitely the Hood."

His eyes scanned the perimeter, and suddenly narrowed, seeing a splatter of blood by the doorway.

"Hold on Cisco, I think I got something."

"What is it?"

Barry reached into one of the pockets Cisco had finally put in the suit, and quickly took a sample.

"There's blood here, and it's not Lawton's."

"You think it's from the Hood?"

Barry looked at the dark liquid in the small glass tube.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out."

 

* * *

 

In a former life, Oliver Queen had never been patient. Even now, it wasn't quite sure to say that he had that particular virtue - it was doubtful he had any virtues - but he was good at faking it. He was precise, and that often forced him to be patient. It didn't come naturally to him, but he had honed his skills at waiting over the years. Still, that didn't make waiting for John Diggle to wake up any easier.

Objectively he knew the other man would be fine. It had been a non-lethal wound, and though Oliver was no surgeon, he was adept enough at stitching up gunshot wounds. Based on the scars littering Dig's body, and what the bodyguard had shared about his past, Oliver knew he wasn't a stranger to receiving gunshot wounds either.

However it wasn't the injury that was troubling Oliver. Instead it was the Streak.

Oliver had seen him. For the first time, he had seen the Streak with his own eyes, and if he thought he had prepared himself for the eventuality, he had been wrong. Somehow seeing him in person was nothing like reading blog posts about him. It had been nothing like Oliver had ever seen, and even though he had little proof to go off of, he was already ruling out the Mirakuru as a possibility. It enhanced people, sure, had the ability to create superhumans, but the Mirakuru didn't make someone so fast that they were impossible to see. So fast that all that was left behind was a red blur and yellow lightning. Oliver had seen the news reports after the event, he had seen the singed clothes worn by people who had reportedly been saved by the Streak, including his own sister and mother. Whatever happened to the Streak, it made him so fast that he was literally on fire.

Oliver sighed, and leaned against one of the tables, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, blinking back the exhaustion. It had been years since he was able to get more than a few hours of sleep at one time, and putting on the hood hadn't done much to help with that. Still, he couldn't succumb to the fatigue just yet. He had to wait for Dig to wake up, and the Streak had left him with plenty to ruminate upon.

He was fast. That much was obvious to anyone in Starling City, but the simple fact that he was fast wasn't what Oliver kept dwelling on. He had seen him in action, and he knew the Streak was fast enough to get to Deadshot, and yet he hadn't. Instead he had stayed and made sure every single person made it out safely. Even though the Streak was fast enough to make it to Deadshot and bring him down, he would have risked someone getting hurt in the seconds he spared to reach the mercenary. The Streak had decided reaching Lawton wasn't worth the possibility of someone getting hurt.

It made an uncomfortable feeling settle in his gut. Guilt mixed in with a sense of foreboding. The Streak valued the individual lives enough to sacrifice the murderer, but Oliver couldn't do that. He didn't have that luxury. He hadn't returned to Starling to be a hero, he was here to carry out his father's mission. He couldn't afford to feel guilty about being unable to save every single person, where the Streak obviously made it a priority.

However it concerned Oliver on another level. It was an inevitability that the Hood and the Streak would run in together. Oliver refused to say Starling City wasn't big enough for two vigilantes - it sounded petty, and bordered on an arrogance that even he wouldn't approach. However it wasn't so big that two men who wanted to save it would never run into each other.

Unfortunately, it was becoming less and less likely that if they did happen across each other, they would be on the same side. Yes, Oliver was willing to bet they wanted the same things, but the Streak had, for all intents and purposes, worn his heart on his sleeve. He revealed what his purpose in the city was, and that was to save its citizens from harm. It was a noble and pure cause. It was one that Oliver admired, however it was not his own cause. He had the list. He may have deviated for the sake of Floyd Lawton, but he was not some guardian angel for his city, unlike what the Streak seemed to be.

Oliver killed people, and would continue to do so. He offered opportunities for recompense of course, but he was not here to save, only to avenge. Having seen the Streak in action tonight, Oliver felt it was safe to say the other vigilante would not take too kindly to Oliver's methods.

He would have to prepare to fight him, and that was not something Oliver was looking forward to doing. He had gone up against people who seemed superhuman before, but this was something entirely different. Oliver had never seen the Streak fighting, only running around saving people. He doubted anyone had actually seen the red blur fight, he was simply too fast. Oliver had precision and rigorous training on his side, yes, but there was no way of knowing if the Streak was just as well trained, or perhaps had increased strength alongside his speed. It wouldn't surprise Oliver - he had after all, managed to carry multiple persons to safety. Besides, even as a college dropout, Oliver knew basic physics. A high enough speed could cause incredible damage, and he had no doubt the Streak could reach that speed. If Oliver were to fight the other vigilante, he would be going up against an opponent with supernatural powers that Oliver did not know the extent of. It was hardly ideal, but based on tonight, Oliver was starting to think it was a certainty.

On the table, Dig began to stir, and Oliver sighed, pushing thoughts of the Streak aside for now. He couldn't focus on the other vigilante. The Streak could busy himself saving the people of the city. Oliver had his hands full trying to save the city itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come cry with me on [tumblr](http://santaspeedster.tumblr.com) about these two dumb boys.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review if you like it or have any comments!


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